The pain and shock we experience from the worst mass-shooting in the United States is the most extreme we have ever felt. Until the next time.

We reel at how disruptive innovation is transforming our industries. Surely, we tell ourselves, the pace will slow. Yet it doesn’t.

We are amazed by the magnitude of the devastation caused by a “natural” disaster. But then the one that follows is even worse.

We are surprised when people rise up to fight against decades of systemic inequity and oppression. Haven’t we transcended to a post-racial world?

Faced with escalating and challenging situations we often tell ourselves that “nobody saw that coming” or that there was just no way to prevent this.

Of course, when we say “nobody saw that coming” most of the time what we mean is “I didn’t see it.”

And that’s because we weren’t looking.

We ignored the facts. We denied an uncomfortable reality. We were afraid to confront our fear. We lost energy when it go too hard. We decided it was someone else’s job. Spoiler alert: it’s not.

Hope isn’t a strategy. It’s not even a decent tactic.

Lying to ourselves isn’t helping. In fact, it’s making it worse.

The truth is there if we are willing to see. And much of what is happening is completely predictable.

If we really desire a different outcome, we’re going to have to do different things. The hard and uncomfortable things.

And go to the places that scare us.

 

Hemingway said that “the best way to find out if you can trust somebody is to trust them.”

That doesn’t mean you give the car keys to a 12 year old, let a drunk pilot fly the plane or promote an incompetent person to a position where their predictable mistakes could do great damage.

But it does mean that when we are dealing with a functional adult we often need to get out of the way of their responsible risk taking and allow them the space for their growth. We need to give them a chance, observe what happens and decide if it works for us. And we have to get comfortable with the reality that it might not.

Ultimately, deep, real and enduring trust is earned,

Trust requires consistency.

Trust builds over time.

Trust creates connection.

Yet if our fear or desire for control prevents us from giving another person the opportunity they need to explore, mature and, yes, make some mistakes, we’ll never get to see who they really are.

The hard part is that trust demands vulnerability and a willingness to let go out the outcome.

If the relationship is important enough it’s always worth it.

Paolo Coelho suggests “a mistake repeated more than once is a decision.” And he’s definitely on to something.

Of course, sometimes mistakes are an intentional part of our path toward learning, innovation, growth. That’s called experimentation–and if failure is not an option then neither is success.

On the other hand, when we repeat destructive–or just plain foolish–behaviors, it’s often our unconscious habits taking over. The key here is mindful awareness and realizing that our fear doesn’t have to rule the roost. We always have a choice.

I like what Portia Nelson has to say about this in her “Autobiography In Five Short Chapters”

Chapter One

I walk down the street.

There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.

I fall in.

I am lost . . . I am helpless.

It isn’t my fault . . .

It takes forever to find a way out.

Chapter Two

I walk down the same street.

There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.

I pretend I don’t see it.

I fall in again.

I can’t believe I am in this same place.

But it isn’t my fault.

It still takes a long time to get out.

Chapter Three

I walk down the same street.

There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.

I see it there.

I still fall . . . it’s a habit . . . but,

My eyes are open.

I know where I am.

It is my fault.

I get out immediately.

Chapter Four

I walk down the same street.

There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.

I walk around it.

Chapter Five

I walk down another street.

If you are anything like me, you may feel attacked from time to time.

In those moments our enemy is the “idiot” that cut us off on the highway, the boss that doesn’t appreciate us enough, the guy we think is flirting with our girlfriend or maybe just the overall raw deal we think life has irritatingly bestowed upon us.

If we get to play on a bigger stage, perhaps we feel pilloried by our political opponents or the media.

If we work in a struggling organization, maybe we feel slighted by “unfair” legislation or competition that we think gets to play by different rules.

Real victimization does exist, of course. And those cases can be appalling, tragic and deserving of outrage and harsh consequences.

Yet we should be careful to distinguish between substantive and real attacks and those that we make up in our heads in an attempt to protect our egos or to distract us from the real, often challenging, work at hand.

When I blame others for my own struggles I am often avoiding uncomfortable truths about myself.

When the politician spends much of his time lashing out at others, he ignores the reality of his own accountability and power.

While it is convenient for the retail CEO to blame Amazon for her company’s woes, the company’s lack of innovation under her leadership is probably the real culprit.

Much of the time the truth is there if we are willing to look for it. And when we are willing to accept it and act on it, progress can be made.

Ultimately it serves precisely no one for us to fight battles over trivial stuff, particularly if they are with the wrong person. And a fight with reality has no winners.

To paraphrase Ajahn Chah, most of the time our real enemy is delusion.

h/t to Jack Kornfield